Once again, she signed:I need your help. I need protection against him.
I nearly choked on a laugh. “Vi, I know Vinny took your phone, but—”
She shook her head slowly.
“If not him... who?”
Her shoulders rolled inward as her hand drifted to the ring on her finger, thumb rubbing over it like it was a worry stone. I’d seen that ring a thousand times and somehow never really looked at it.
It was a thick ring. The band was wide and heavy, and the stones weren’t flashy, just big enough to sparkle a little without drawing attention. It always looked too big for someone as dainty as Violet.
She never took it off. Not to shower. Not to sleep. Never. So I’d always assumed it was sentimental, maybe from her grandma or something. But watching her fidget with it now, it didn’t seem like she particularly enjoyed whatever it reminded her of.
“Vi,” I said quietly. “What are you doing?”
She didn’t answer with her hands this time. She just slid the ring off and held up her hand.
An angry scar circled the base of her finger, puckered and uneven. I think it was a bite mark, but the edges were distorted—almost like it had either been infected or someone had tried, and failed, to claw it out.
Just the sight made me sick. Not just because it was ugly, which it was, but because that had to hurt.
“Holy shit,” I whispered. “You… that’s an alpha mark.”
She nodded and slipped the jewelry back on.
“That’s who you were running from.”
Again, she nodded.
“Oh my god—we have to tell Vinny—”
“N...o.” The word was rough and barely there, but it was spoken.
From Violet’s lips.
I froze. Was this some weird fucking fever dream?
She swallowed painfully, like it hurt just to try and make her vocal cords work.
But to her credit, she tried again.
“No,” she said, a little clearer this time.
Her voice was raspier than I thought it would be, but I figured that was due to years of not speaking.
“Vi… you just—”
She shook her head quickly, panic flashing across her face, one hand flying up like she was afraid the word had escaped without permission. Her breathing went shallow.
“No,” she whispered again, almost pleading this time.
Oh my God. She was desperate.
“Okay,” I said carefully. “Okay. We’re not telling him. Not right now.”
She sagged in relief, and I took her hands gently, careful not to touch the ring.
“You said you need my help—what are we doing?”
